


Noct finds Ignis' FetLife Profile

by sophos (ians_carer)



Series: Kinky Ignis [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Kink Exploration, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-30 23:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13962219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ians_carer/pseuds/sophos
Summary: fill for the kinkmeme prompt:Or whatever the equivalent of Fetlife is in Lucis. Point is, Noct has heretofore only thought of Ignis as an asexual parental figure; turns out he's KINKY AS HELL and now Noct has to live with this knowledge and it's KILLING HIM.+ Prompto dared him to join the site+ Noct has no idea what half of Ignis's kinks even are but reading up on them makes him sweat nervously+ inappropriate fantasizing when he's watching Ignis like, make dinner+ solo kink exploration turns into Ignis guiding Noct through a world of kink





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this has kinda gotten away from me! I'm gonna a turn this into a collection and add some smutty oneshots at some point, hitting hopefully on a bunch of the kinks mentioned, but uhhh yeah, hope you enjoy!

Getting drunk with Prompto is always, undeniably, a fucking awful idea. He's laying upside down on the couch, one foot hanging over the back, the other bent over the arm of the couch, staring intently onto the screen of Noct's computer while he tries to navigate to a website Prompto has insisted he look at. “All I'm saying Noct, you told me -- _dude, listen to me!”_

 

“I'm listening, I'm just trying to spell, hang on.” Noct stops and turns to look at his friend. He's sitting cross legged on the floor, twisting round to Prompto’s flushed cheeks. “What the fuck is this website called again?” Ignis is probably going to be pissed at them in the morning, but right now, Noct could really give a fuck about what his advisor thinks. He's 18, he's entitled to some irresponsibility. Sue him.

 

“FetLife, dude. F-e-t-l-i-f-e. All I'm saying!” he insists, his words all tumbling over one another, “Is that you told me about that girl you had sex with a few weeks ago, and how she wanted you to tie her up. Remember that?” 

 

“Yeah, I remember.” Telling Prompto about that, admittedly, isn't among Noct's proudest moments, especially since he's not usually the kind of person who goes for hook-ups, but that girl had been… kind of awesome. Noct really… _really_ hadn't expected to enjoy having sex with a girl whose arms were tied behind her back, but the experience had been pretty eye opening. 

 

“Then you gotta get on this site dude, the whole point of it is for kinky people to find each other, and I've heard it's totally awesome. We're gonna make an account for you.”

 

“Right now?”

 

“Yeah right now, why the fuck do you think I brought it up?!” 

 

Noctis blinks at the screen. “But I can't put my real name in there, they'll know it's me.” He frowns and the cursor blinks insistently in the 'nickname’ box. After a second of Prompto trying to twist around to read properly, Noct has successfully typed _“Oromnpto Srhentuem.”_

 

“That's not my name, _ooooh_ \--” Prompto giggles and flops onto his front, palms flat on the carpet. “Fuck dude you're so drunk you can't even type my name.” 

 

“Shut up!” Noctis shoves his head away and squints back at the screen, now staring at the gigantic list of 'roles.’

 

“Oh my gods…” He breathes, and tries to figure out what the fuck they all mean. 

 

After half an hour of unsuccessful googling and crafting of fake addresses, he's labeled himself as 'undecided’ in almost all categories, and is now free to peruse the site in search of… well, something. He doesn't exactly remember anymore. Their address is still pretty close to the center of Insomnia, so he can accurately look for 'like-minded kinksters’ (something Prompto cackles about for like, 5 whole minutes), and the results are… pretty interesting. 

 

The first few profiles are boring -- huge burly guys in their profile pictures (totally fake, as they find out with a google image search), proclaiming them to be a dom and a sadist, respectively. 

 

“Dude this is getting boring. Why are we on here again?” Noctis whines after a few more minutes of aimless clicking around random profiles. They're both blinking a little tiredly, clearly winding down from the booze and heading towards a night spent passed out on the floor. 

 

“Just one more.” Prompto yawns, gesturing towards the screen with a lazy hand. 

 

“Fine.” Noctis clicks for the next profile, and starts to read it. The picture is of nothing more than lean expanse of a pale, slightly olive-toned chest. A long neck and thin, tight body. “Whoa…” both of them lean closer, and Noct clicks the picture to make it bigger. There's a collar locked around that throat, and on closer inspection, it's pretty clear whoever this guy is, he's not wearing any pants either, though nothing inappropriate is shown in the photo. A slight hint of pink lips, parted are barely in frame, and the backdrop is a modest bedroom, pale walls and dark sheets. Pretty inconspicuous. And then Noctis leans a little closer and points at the nightstand, where he can see a hint of silver hanging over the edge. 

 

“Those look like Ignis’ gloves.” He says, and Prompto leans closer, having slid almost entirely off the couch by now, save for one leg. 

 

“Huh. They kinda do. Weird.” Prompto doesn't seem concerned, but Noct is looking a little closer. 

 

“This looks like Ignis’ room, too.” He realizes, and Prompto snorts at him.

 

“You've been into Ignis’ room? When!?” 

 

“Dude I helped him move into his apartment.” 

 

_“Oh._ Wait, really?” Prompto now stares intently at the picture, and they both seem to have the same epiphany.

 

“You don't think--”

 

“There's no way--”

 

_“...Fuck.”_ They finish in unison, and now Noctis sees the picture with new eyes, recognizes the shape of his jaw, his mouth, fuck, even his neck. It's fucking Ignis. On a profile of a kink website, wearing a fucking _collar._

 

The exhaustion from a moment ago fades, and now they face a decision: “Do we look at it?” Prompto asks, his tone clearly hedging towards  _ yes, _ and Noct is already shaking his head. 

 

“No way dude, it'd be a violation of his privacy! Do you know how pissed he'd be if he knew we found this?!” There's no way they can look at this -- a straight and narrow list of kinks that his advisor has?! No way. 

 

“It's on the internet dude, your dad could find this if he wanted!”

 

“Gross! What the fuck?!” 

 

Prompto is now curled in front of the screen, his eyes wide as he appeals to his friend. “All I'm saying is this: We don't have to look at it. But if we doooooo, welllllll, I mean it's not like he has to know we did, right? We just won't tell him. I know it sounds fucking awful, but like, I'm gonna die if I don't know what he's into.”

 

Noct blinks back at the screen. He can't stop staring at that collar. “No way dude. Ignis would find out. He'd figure it out somehow, he'd smell the guilt on us.” And with that, he slams the laptop closed. “We gotta go to bed.” He decides, and even takes the thing with him into his room. 

 

The nice thing about drinking with Prompto is that almost every time he gets drunk, he doesn't remember anything the next day. And, going by his behavior the next morning, it's still true for this. Unfortunately for Noctis, he remembers all of it. And when he opens his laptop in the morning, before Ignis shows up, that profile is still there. 

 

Staring at him. Like it's daring him to look. It's like Ignis’ bare nipples are taunting him from the LED screen. Six, he's hungover. Noctis stares at it for kind of a long time before the finally groans and clicks away from the profile picture, preparing to regret most events in his life up to this moment, because Prompto was right: there's no way he can pass up this opportunity. It's too tempting. 

 

His nickname on the site is just 'Specs’, it's not even fucking discreet. _Gods Ignis, you couldn't have been a little more chill with your screen name?_

 

He's labeled himself on the site as a submissive, which, considering the profile picture, shouldn't really be that surprising, but Noct is still left staring at it for way too long. 

 

Not only is Ignis on a kink website, apparently… He's a submissive, too. Whatever that… actually means. Reconciling the word submissive with Ignis doesn't really feel like it fits -- the guy is a total control freak. If he were to think of Ignis in bed (not… that he normally does…) he'd probably think of like, Ignis in a suit and gloves, fucking some girl with a dildo, probably. But even that feels wrong. 

 

Ignis doesn't have sex. He… cooks a lot and cleans a lot and drives places, and when he gets home he probably works more, or reads a book, or has a bubble bath with some red wine and classical music. Not… Whatever this is.

 

Regardless, the word submissive is pretty self explanatory, if… pretty weird to think about. The next interesting bit is that he's listed himself as gay -- not entirely surprising information, given what he knows about his friend. 

 

But the really weird part… Is the really fucking long list of kinks in his profile. Bondage, okay, fine (he gets a brief image of Ignis tied up in ropes or handcuffs, and quickly dispels it. weird), shibari (whatever the fuck that is), masochism (...), painplay (what.), humiliation, edging, chastity, oromashi, sounding, ruins, lingerie, breathplay --  _ fuck _ it's like it never ends.

 

\--

 

In an absolutely fucking horrendous turn of events, when Noctis sees Ignis that day, all he can think about is his nipples. His naked. Bare. Kinda dark nipples. Noct spent his morning thinking about Ignis in all sorts of ways -- he couldn’t help it, it was all just… there. 

 

Not that he knows what the fuck half the kinks on Ignis’ list even are, but the few he does know something about… Well, it makes his morning pretty hard to get through. 

 

Ignis arrives, and after a bit of sighing gets to work cleaning up the chips and beer left over from the night before, admonishing Noct about eating in his living space, because now he’ll have to vacuum. And then he starts doing the dishes.

 

Honestly… Noctis has never considered himself particularly attracted to his chamberlain before. Like, yeah, Ignis is attractive, anyone can see that, but he’s never really thought of him on this new sort of level. Ignis, as far as Noct has been concerned for his whole life, is some kind of celibate nun. Asexual, maybe. Because there’s no way someone as prim and uptight as Ignis has a sex drive. There’s just… No way.

 

Except that apparently… He does. A pretty active one, apparently. Probably. Maybe.

 

But now he’s bent over the dishwasher, placing the silverware all neat and tidy, and all Noctis the Pervert (that’s what they’ll call him someday, he’s sure of it) can think about is whether or not he’s wearing panties beneath those tight pants of his. Would he do that sort of thing? Does he get off to wearing panties when no one knows about it? Is he thinking about it right now?

 

And maybe Ignis can even hear him thinking, because a second later he’s standing up straight and turning round, cocking an eyebrow at his distracted prince. “Something you need, Noct?” He asks archly, and Noctis blinks his thoughts away.

 

“Huh?” He asks intelligently, and then scoots away from the counter, “Nah, I’m good, Specs.” It comes out easily, because, well, he calls Ignis Specs all the time, and then he’s thinking about Ignis’ stupid name on that stupid site again.

 

_ Shit. _

 

“We’re expected at the citadel in…” Ignis pulls back his sleeve and glances down at his watch, “Half an hour. Be sure you’re ready.”

 

“Yeah. Got it.” Noct is already saying, slinking back into the safety of his room.

 

\--

 

The next time he has an opportunity, Noctis is googling exactly what a submissive is. It seems like it’s kind of an umbrella term for a lot of things, so it seems the simplest place to start, and he’s really curious about it, knowing that Ignis considers himself to be one. What he gets for his troubles is a lot of pictures of girls. Tied up in various positions, gagged, blindfolded, spanked, kneeling with their legs spread and their tits framed with rope -- and it’s a lot.

 

Most of the girls, they’re… Yeah, they’re pretty hot. But Noctis keeps thinking about Ignis anyway. Ignis’ lips stretched wide around a gag, his knees wide and his body on display for whoever wants to look, face-down, with his arms behind his back and his ass in the air, just like that pretty girl from a few weeks back -- it’s, it’s confusing as hell. And suddenly, where Noctis couldn’t even reconcile the thought of Ignis having sex at all, all he can do now is think about what Ignis would look like in all these ropes. Does he moan? Gasp? Whine? What if he screams? Is he loud in bed?

 

More practically, he learns that he was right about submissive being a pretty wide blanket term, but generally indicating a person who wants to relinquish control in the bedroom. Does that mean Ignis likes to be told what to do? The idea still seems pretty vague, but then he remembers that he has a list of the things Ignis likes to do underneath that umbrella. 

 

Shamefully, Noctis refers to it again. Shibari turns out to be pretty simple, all things considered, and totally like something Ignis would be into. It’s like bondage but pretty and ornate. Once he’s learned the meaning of the word, and his cock has taken a shameful moment to twitch along with the idea of Ignis contorted in red ropes, flushed and hard and desperate… he moves on.

 

Masochism turns out to be a hell of a lot less romantic. 

 

Noctis is treated with videos of people being beaten until they’re red and purple and crying. Whips and ropes and suckers and slapping and choking and clothes pins and weights hung from tits and balls (fucking ow!) and it’s when he gets the first taste of the hardcore shit Ignis must be into. It’s kinda freaky, but the longer he watches, the more he reminds himself that these people like this sort of thing…. The less scary it gets. He finds himself watching a video of a man tied up on the ground with a woman wearing heels as she steps cruelly on his dick and balls. 

 

It’s not hard to imagine what Ignis would look like, his legs spread out, body arching as he writhes with the pain of it, cries and sobs tearing from his long throat, knees trying to pull together…

 

Noctis looks down at the absolute most shameful boner of his life.

 

_ This is… pretty bad. _


	2. Chapter 2

It gets so bad that Noctis find himself thinking about it during an agricultural meeting trying to solve the problem of their quickly dwindling farmland, due to the war. Really important stuff he should definitely be paying attention to, but also, Ignis is sitting right next to him and Noctis can't stop staring at his crotch and thinking about cock cages. That's what he'd learned about chastity before he came here, and he's pretty sure that's what it must mean Ignis is into. Is he wearing one right now? What does his dick look like? What would it look like if it was stuffed into one of those weird looking contraptions? Does it hurt if you get hard while you're wearing one? He imagines the answer is yes, it seems like it'd hurt like hell, and not in a good way. Is that the point?

 

Ignis catches his eye and directs him subtly back to the action going on above the table, and if Noct can't help the chagrined blush on his cheeks -- well, Ignis doesn't say anything.

 

Ignis is a submissive who apparently gets his rocks off on pain. Mostly. Noctis wonders if he likes it when he takes hits in the sparring room from Gladio. Is that the same thing? It's really weird suddenly having so much information on Ignis’ sexual preferences and not being able to do anything about it. Not that, he would… Or anything. 

 

“Noct.” Ignis says, a few weeks later, his pen clicking and being dropped on the table. He's trying to help Noctis with another fucking report, but his focus is totally shot. Ignis is really hot, okay? And for the past three days all he's been able to think about is Ignis naked and on his knees with a collar around his neck, dick hard, with a vibrator in his ass -- or, bent over begging Noct to hit him. He still really doesn't know much about all this bdsm stuff, but he's started fantasizing about it a whole lot.

 

“Huh? What?” Noct blinks and focuses on Ignis’ worried face. 

 

“You've been very distracted lately, is everything alright?” It's sort of the first real conversation they've had in a while, and Noct feels like he's suddenly being jammed back into the reality of the Ignis he actually knows, cause he's just sitting there, dressed all the way up to his neck in pressed starch, with those new glasses he got a few months ago, not -- whatever Noct has turned him into since he found that FetLife profile. He's just the same Ignis, being worried about his friend.

 

And Noctis, on his part, suddenly feels really ashamed. He's been so hyper-fixated on the idea of Ignis as some kind of sexual deviant that he's kinda forgotten about Ignis as his friend. 

 

“Yeah, I'm uh, I'm fine.” He says, lamely, and knows Ignis won't believe it for a second. 

 

“You look flushed, are you coming down with a fever?” Ignis’ frown deepens and honestly, Noctis just kinda wants to die because Ignis is way too good to him. He's so nice all the fucking time, and he doesn't really deserve to be objectified like this. Like, how shitty of a friend can he be? Invading his privacy, fantasizing about him, jerking off to thoughts of him hooked up to spreader bars and whipped until his ass is raw?

 

Soooo not the time to be thinking about that. 

 

“No, I'm good, Specs. Seriously. Thanks.” Noctis insists, and hates that he breathes a sigh of relief when Ignis gives him one last look and seems to accept his excuse. 

 

But karma is bound to catch up to him sometime, and it does, only a few days later. Ignis is at his apartment longer than expected, and Noct is surreptitiously googling what the hell 'figging’ is. He thinks, belatedly, that if he just asked Ignis, he'd probably explain what it is, but… It seems kind of inappropriate. 

 

Prompto is gonna be over soon, and he's kinda just killing time while Ignis scrubs his bathroom. He looks kinda cute in an apron, with his hair pulled back in a bandana. But when Prompto finally does show up… Everything goes really, really wrong, and several things happen in succession.

 

The door clatters open to announce his arrival, and out the corner of his eye Noctis sees Ignis sigh with his entire body, although he's bent almost entirely inside the bathtub. Prompto is also covered in rain water, something else bound to tick Ignis off. 

 

But the words that come out of his mouth are what damns them. “Okay, Noct, look, I didn't wanna bring it up again, cause it was super weird, but dude, I'm not gonna lie, I can't stop thinking about Iggy’s FetLife profile, it's kinda haunting my dreams, and not really in a good way, it's like -- I dunno if I can ever look at him the same again man.” 

 

It's by and large the absolute most terrifying moment of Noct's life, and he was almost killed by a daemon as a child. Everything from there feels like slow motion, like a movie or something. His eyes go wide as saucers as he looks back at Prompto with the most ‘shut the fuck up!’ expression he can muster, and he's pretty sure he can hear Ignis dropping something. And then it's Prompto's turn to look horrified, as he hears a sound from the bathroom and goes paler than Noct had ever seen him. ‘HE'S HERE STILL?!’ The lanky idiot whispers loudly, and Noctis is fairly certain his life on this planet has just met its end. 

 

Prompto wasn't supposed to remember that! He didn't seem like he had! What the fuck! What the fuckity shit fuck!

 

Before either of them can make any significant moves towards redemption, Ignis is flitting past them both, gathering up all his things like he's a tornado. When he speaks, his voice is calm and quiet. It's terrifying. “I am finished here for the night, Noct. Have a good evening, let me know if there's anything you need. Goodnight, Prompto.” He inclines his head towards them both, clearly going for the ‘I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and we'll never talk about it again’ tactic.

 

When the door slams closed behind him, Noctis collapses on the couch and groans loudly into the pillow, and Prompto begins to audibly panic.

 

“Dude! I didn't know he was here! Why didn't you tell me?!”

 

“”How was I supposed to know you'd waltz in here talking about that shit again?! What the fuck, man?! I didn't even know you still remembered it!”

 

“How could I forget!? It's seared into my brain!”

 

Noctis pulls the pillow tighter over his head, feeling like a real shitbag. Fuck. Ignis is gonna hate him forever.


	3. Chapter 3

Ignis hasn't shown his face around his apartment any longer than necessary for the past week, and every attempt at bringing up the elephant in their relationship is quickly and expertly rebuffed into something else. Several attempts at both conversation and reconciliation thrown away because of Ignis’ presumed shame.

 

And it sucks.

 

It takes until after a meeting they're both in for Noctis to corner him in the hallway, leaving absolutely no room for Ignis to run unless he literally ducks underneath Noct's arms. 

 

“Ignis, look, we need to talk.” He says, and he's pretty sure he's gotta be regretting this way more than Ignis is. Noct keeps his voice firm. “I'm really, really sorry about this whole thing, Prompto feels like shit, we didn't mean--”

 

“Highness.” Ignis says, stiffly, his arms folded across his chest, his eyebrows turning his face severe. Underneath it though, Noct can recognize the signs of Ignis at his absolute most stressed. Tight shoulders, pinched lips, a refusal for eye contact, all of it. “This is not the time, nor place to be having this conversation, and I really must be on my way.” He sounds cold, detached, and he's looking over Noct's shoulder. For a second, Noct thinks he really might try and run away.

 

Despite himself, Noctis deflates. “Yeah, okay, but like… I really don't want this to just be a weird thing between us. Can we talk tonight?”

 

It's a long moment before Ignis nods curtly, his movements jerky and awkward. “Very well. Now I really must go.” Noct knows him well enough to recognize what's nearly begging, and decides to give the poor guy some space. As if he hasn't already violated his privacy and what's probably his only means of relaxation enough.

 

“Yeah, sorry.” He steps aside enough for Ignis to slip by him, and feels even worse for how quickly Ignis disappears down the corridor. Despite all his newfound fantasies about his advisor, Noct can unequivocally say that if he knew it would lead to Ignis feeling this bad about it, there's no way he would have done it in the first place. All he can hope is that he manages to navigate his apology well enough for Ignis to come out of it not feeling violated and traumatized.

 

That night, Noctis is kind of a bundle of nerves. He's too nervous to say anything on the ride home, and Ignis seems to be too, so the car ride back to the apartment is silent and tense. It sucks. He's had arguments with Ignis before, but never anything like this. Never anything so personal, and especially nothing about the way Ignis conducts himself in his personal life. 

 

It's not up to Noct what he does with his free time, and it really shouldn't be, and he has no right to know things Ignis hasn't deemed fit to tell him himself. By the time they're walking through the door, Noct is convinced that he's completely destroyed the trust Ignis had in him, and he feels crushed. He feels even worse when Ignis sits at the table rather than starting to go about his usual duties. Hands clasped in front of him, eyes down, like he's frightened to look anywhere.

 

Fuck.

 

He's really fucked this one up, hasn't he?

 

Noct doesn't think his insides could possibly be tied into tighter knots than they currently are, but somehow, through the haze of guilt and anxiety, he manages to stumble into the chair opposite Ignis, and adopt an almost identical posture. They're both quiet, and it's about thirty seconds before Noctis realizes that Ignis must be waiting for him to say something. Shit. Normally Ignis would be the one helping him through this sort of thing, and it really, really sucks that he isn't now. Except that he's probably pissed and considering quitting or something, which is totally fair.

 

Noctis swallows, and it's so loud he wonders if his neighbors can hear it through the soundproof walls. “I'm really sorry.” He rasps, not knowing where else to start.

 

“Yes, you've already said that.” Ignis is merciless, and Noct actually cringes at his rapid and curt reply. It's pretty clear he's not going to offer the mercy of moving this conversation along.

 

Okay. That's fine. He probably deserves this too. “Yeah, I just… Wanted to say it again. We weren't… uh. Looking for you, or anything, if it helps. It was just kind of an accident.” Noctis is pretty sure that doesn't help, but he's trying. It's all he can do, and it's not like Ignis can make him feel worse than he already made himself feel. Probably.

 

Ignis, for his part, is silent for a while. “Might I ask how exactly you two found yourselves on such a site?” And yeah, he's clearly trying to turn this back around onto someone else, and during a normal argument he'd call Specs out on his shit, but it really doesn't seem like the time.

 

Noctis shrugs, and with a glance up, realizes Ignis is looking at him now, his expression unreadable. “We were drunk? And uh, Prompto thought I'd be interested in it.” He hedges his bets for a second. “And I kinda was, so… I decided to check it out.” Pulling the “you're not the only one” move is pretty manipulative at this point in time, and risky too. Doesn't make it any less true, but it's the sort of thing bound to set Ignis off anyway. 

 

“I see.” He says, enigmatically, and now his eyes are down again, fingers picking at a mail on his thumb. “I hope you are being careful then.” 

 

And that honestly makes Noct feel even worse than this whole awkward, stunted conversation does, because of course Ignis would say that even though he probably feels like absolute shit for being ridiculed about something clearly so personal behind his back. “Listen, Ignis…” He tries, and takes a deep breath before he makes the absolute journey over to Ignis’ hands and covers them with one of his own, to get his gaze flicking back up. But the look in those green eyes sets off something else that pulls at his heart. “I -- are you… are you okay?” It's not the sort of thing Noct usually says, ever, but he thinks it might need to be anyway that right now.

 

Cold, pale hands slip out of his grasp and onto his lap before Ignis answers. “I'm upset, if that's what you're asking. I'm absolutely mortified.”

 

Noct's heart drops to his feet, and the shame is too much to bear. “I know. I just want you to know that like… it doesn't matter to me what you like to do, you know? It's fine, you don't need to be ashamed or anything. You just like what you like, you know? And that's okay.” 

 

Ignis is quiet for a long time again, and Noct can hear his fingers twisting in his lap. “Thank you.” He says, and if his voice sounds a little thick, neither of them mention it. “Shall I start dinner now?”

 

Noctis breathes out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and scoots back. “Yeah. Sounds good. Wait, can I uh… Can I give you a hug?” He asks, standing up and slouching. 

 

Rather than answer, Ignis stands himself and tucks Noctis into his arms. Ignis’ hugs are really rare, and so he hangs onto this one for the brief second its given. “I'm sorry.” Noct says again, into his sleeve, feeling miserable, and he feels Ignis deflate in his arms a little.

 

“What's done is done.” He says, but he doesn't sound too upset anymore, so things will probably be fine. 

 

For now, Noct clings a little tighter.


End file.
